Chapter 72
Tonight not even the music is helping; it is usually Anton’s greatest solace. He is sitting in the living room with his soprano saxophone, but he can’t lose himself in the chords as he usually can.
Carl is constantly on his mind, over and over again he plays the wrong note. Anton has tried calling him several times during the evening, but it goes straight to voicemail.
He can hardly blame Carl for feeling hurt.
Eventually Anton gives up and puts down the sax.
He is too restless, he has to get out of the apartment.
He sets off without really knowing where he is going.
The temperature is minus twenty-one, the wind is blowing hard, and his breath turns into a cloud of vapor as he walks through the icy darkness.
His footsteps take him toward his parents’ house, and after fifteen minutes he finds himself standing outside the place where he grew up. The lights are on downstairs, presumably his mother and father are in the living room, watching the news on TV. That’s what they usually do at this time.
A great weariness comes over Anton.
Why does everything have to be so difficult?
All afternoon he has wondered about the strange phone call from his father. Those weird hints about who was welcome at Karro’s birthday party.
I can’t do this anymore.
He goes up the steps and opens the front door without knocking. They never lock up until bedtime.
“Hello?” his mother, Susanne, calls out inquiringly.
“It’s me.”
Anton takes off his boots and jacket and goes into the living room. His father is in his favorite armchair; his mother is curled up on the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea. She doesn’t like to drink black tea in the evenings, because it keeps her awake.
“Hi, darling,” she says. “What a nice surprise. Coffee?”
She is about to get up, but Anton raises his hand and stops her.
“I need to speak to you both.”
His father has one eye on the TV and one on Anton.
“Can it wait?” he says. “We’re watching the news. It will be finished in quarter of an hour.”
Anton bites the inside of his cheeks. This is about his life, so no, it can’t wait. He has already waited for far too long.
“I’m afraid not,” he says, positioning himself in front of the television so that his parents have no choice but to give him their attention.
“What are you doing? I can’t see!”
His father is annoyed, but it doesn’t matter. Anton is annoyed too. Furious, in fact. It feels good. His anger gives him energy, the courage to say what should have been said years ago.
His mother gives him an anxious look, as if she realizes that the storm clouds are gathering. That her son is about to challenge his father, and that it will end in conflict as usual.
But this time Anton has no intention of backing down as he has done way too often in the past.
“Turn it off, please,” he says to his mother, who is closest to the remote.
“What the hell are you doing?” his father barks. “You can’t just come marching in here—you don’t get to tell us whether we can watch TV or not!”
“Mom—turn it off.”
His mother looks from her son to her husband, then reaches for the remote. One click and the screen goes dark.
“Mats, it sounds as if Anton has something important to tell us. I think we should listen to him. We can catch up with the news later.”
Anton takes a deep breath.
He is standing with his legs apart, hands behind his back, just like when he is on duty and needs to show his authority. It’s a shame he isn’t wearing his uniform; it always makes him feel more secure.
“Your phone call today,” he says to his father. “What was it about? Honestly?”
His mother blinks. “You called Anton today? You never mentioned it.”
“You kept saying that Karro’s birthday party is just for the family. Why was it so important to tell me that?”
At least his father has the decency to look embarrassed, as if he has been caught out doing something he shouldn’t.
“We can’t have lots of people showing up,” his father mumbles in a voice that is nothing like his usual brusque tone.
Anton’s mother is starting to look worried. It is obvious that she has no idea what the conversation is about, but she has no difficulty picking up on the tension between the two men in her life.
“Do you know what I think?” Anton says. “I don’t think it was anything whatsoever to do with how many people could come, but which people. You don’t want me to introduce you to the person I’m in love with.”
“You want to bring a new girlfriend?”
The pure joy in his mother’s voice breaks Anton’s heart.
The hopes and expectations.
For years she has nagged Anton about finding a girl; all he has to do is make a little more effort.
His soulmate is out there somewhere.
She really wants him to be happy. Have a family of his own, give her more grandchildren.
That’s only going to happen if he can do it his way.
His father hasn’t said a word, but Anton can see that he is about to lose his temper. He’s not the only one. Anton is making a huge effort not to start yelling.
“Careful,” his father warns him. “Do you really want to discuss this in front of your mother?”
There is nothing Anton wants more.
“Of course you can bring her!” Susanne assures him. “She’s most welcome!”
Anton wishes there were a way to do this that wouldn’t hurt her, but he can’t see an alternative. She has to know what the situation is, and he has to be true to himself.
“His name is Carl,” he says, with a brief pause between words. “We’re in love, and we’ve been together for nine months.”
His mother’s hand flies to her mouth. She looks as if she has just been struck by lightning.
“If Carl isn’t welcome in our family, then you won’t be seeing me in the future either.”
His father stands up and steps forward so that the two of them are face-to-face. They are the same height; it is only the years that separate them.
And their view of life.
The ability to understand that Anton is different, and will never be able to fulfill their expectations.
“How dare you come here and upset your mother?” his father says stiffly. “Apologize to her immediately!”
Is he really blaming her when he’s the homophobe in the family?
“Have you no shame!” his father roars in his military voice, as if Anton is reporting to him like a raw recruit.
Enough.
“The question is which of us has no shame!” Anton yells back. “I’ve been like this ever since I was born. But you made me deny it, both to myself and everyone else.”
“So now it’s our fault you’re not normal? That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard! We’ve only ever tried to protect you, and this is the thanks we get?”
His mother gets to her feet. “Please, Mats. Don’t say that.”
But there is no stopping him.
“Are you intending to throw your life away on this bizarre idea? It’s no more than a whim. What do you think your boss is going to say? Or your colleagues? Don’t you realize you’ll be booted out of the police if this comes out?”
“At least it will be my decision.”
Anton pushes his hands deep into his pockets in an attempt to maintain his self-control. He is seconds away from punching his father, who has put into words all of Anton’s own fears, everything that has caused him to avoid coming out and telling his family the truth for so long.
His family and his colleagues.
His mother is on the verge of tears.
“Please, please stop!” she begs, wringing her hands. “I can’t bear this!”
His father refuses to back down. His expression is full of something that resembles distaste.
The air goes out of Anton.
What an idiot he was to imagine it would be possible to reason with his parents. That they might accept him with love and understanding if he came out and told them the truth.
His father will never understand.
Because he can’t.
Because he doesn’t want to.
“The two of us are done,” Anton says. He goes into the hallway, puts on his boots and jacket, and walks out. And his parents don’t say a word to try to stop him.